


Respite

by Cirsium



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Breeding, Comeplay, Creampie, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirsium/pseuds/Cirsium
Summary: As the Hogwarts Librarian, you were desperate for a way to contribute something more meaningful to the Order of the Phoenix. You knew that your research was important, but everyone else was making such great sacrifices, and you wanted to do more. So before he died, Dumbledore told you everything. His final order? Help Severus Snape in any way you can.And there’s only one thing that Snape wants from you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on the last chapters for Claim Me, but this was already finished. It's complete in six chapters, and I'll be posting every few days.

You stand at the top of the spiral staircase, listening to the voices inside. The Carrows are with him, adding yet another level of terror to this whole situation. You’ve been fixated on this moment for months and, after three calming breaths, force your knuckles to rap against the door.

“Enter!” a familiar voice barks from inside.

You crack the door open just enough for you to take one step into the office. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Headmaster, but we had an appointment to go over the Library’s budget.”

You can’t be sure, could never be sure with him, but something like relief might flit across Snape’s face for a moment. It’s gone as soon as it appears though, replaced by the stony mask he wears to dismiss the Carrows. They stomp out of the room like surly teenagers.

As you draw a chair closer to the Headmaster’s desk, your heart races. This office is so much more oppressive than it had been under its previous occupant. The furniture is all dark wood, and Dumbledore’s menagerie of curious objects has been replaced by jars of potions ingredients. There are as many books as there had been before, at least, but even the covers seem darker than the rainbow that had once lined the shelves.

You pull out the budget that you do actually need to get approval for at some point, and spread it across the desk. “The great many changes that have been made to the curriculum mean that I’ll need to buy far more books this year than normal. I’ve tried to make savings in other areas to offset this.” You point to a few of your neatly drawn rows as stone begins to scrape against stone, signalling the Carrows’ descent. They certainly hadn’t bothered listening at the door for very long. “I’ve cut this by two thirds again. I can only assume Madame Pince was deliberately damaging books just to repair them from the amount she was spending on book glue.”

The stone gargoyle clunks into place, and you pause. You could carry on talking about budgets and then go back to the safety of your library. No one living would know about your cowardice. But Dumbledore’s last words to you echo in your ears: ‘Severus is the most important part of this plan, and he may not succeed on his own.’

You take a deep breath, and concentrate on the sensation of air filling your lungs. “Have they definitely gone? They’re not still listening in, are they?”

Snape frowns at you, but cocks his head slightly. He’s tapping into the castle, to that extra layer of magic that only Hogwarts heads have access to. “They’re gone.”

“Good,” you say, “because I’m not really here about budgets.”

He arches an eyebrow. “They why are you wasting my time?”

“Dumbledore told me everything.”

Snape’s ability to keep his face neutral is truly impressive. “And what great secrets do you believe he let you in on?”

This is it; this is the moment your life might end. You push to the back of your mind the nagging doubts that Dumbledore was a very old, sick man who could easily have been deceived by the powerful wizard sitting opposite you. “He told me that he asked you to kill him, to solidify your place as one of You-Know-Who’s most devoted followers. And he told me that you’re still working for the Order.”

Snape stands, tension straining every part of his body, and casts a Muffliato in spite of your isolation. “More proof that Dumbledore was a fool, then.”

You’re still alive, which gives you more than a little bit of hope. “My Occlumency is pretty good, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, and then begins to pace. “What madness took hold of him to think that sharing this with you would be a good idea?”

“He felt that, considering everything he had asked you to do, all the pressure he had put you under, expecting you to get through it without a friend or ally to help would have been cruel.”

Snape sneers at you. “And what could _ you _ possibly do to help _ me_?”

You’ve seen him act this way many times before; it’s the tactic he uses to intimidate students. You choose to believe he doesn’t mean it. “Anything you need. I could help with some of the admin work for the school, to free up your time for other things. Or if you need to do something outside Hogwarts for the Order and can’t get away, I could go in your place. Or… if you just need someone, to talk to, to comfort you-”

Snape snorts. “_Comfort _me? What, has Dumbledore sent me a whore?”

Your breathing catches. Dumbledore didn’t say anything like that outright, of course he didn’t, but something about the tone of his voice did make you wonder whether that was what he had in mind. You force steel into your eyes and jaw. “If that’s what you need.”

Snape freezes. “You’re here to fuck me?" he scoffs. "What, for the good of the wizarding world?”

“I told you,” you say, “anything you need.”

A look of hatred settles over his face, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at you. He sits back down. “Go on then.”

You stand immediately, aware that any hesitation would ruin this, and shrug out of your robes. Laying them down neatly over the back of your chair gives you the second you need to compose yourself for what’s about to happen. Underneath you’re left in a brown knee-length skirt, a dowdy beige jumper, and flats: you had wanted to project an image of ‘frumpy librarian’ for the Carrows. You had forgone the woollen tights you would normally wear with this outfit though, and you wonder now whether you had known that this was going to happen all along.

Snape is unmoving as you approach him, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. He remains still as you climb up to straddle his lap. He wants you to drive this, then.

Kissing him on the lips doesn’t seem right, so you tug at his cravat and undo his top few buttons. You suck on his throat and lave your tongue across his chest, and when you shift your hips you find him hard against your centre already. From what you can tell he feels huge, and in spite of the absurd situation a thrill runs through you. You writhe against him, grinding your clit on his erection, and run your hands over his body. He’s thin, but even through all the layers of clothing you can feel his muscles flexing as you move against him.

Your hands find his belt, which you undo easily, and then there are yet more buttons on his trousers. He lets out a hiss of air through his teeth when your fingers graze him, and then finally you can reach in to pull out his cock.

As soon as your fingers wrap around his silken skin, he pushes you off him. Before you realise what's happened, he’s spun you around and bent you forwards over his desk, face pressed into the budget you worked so hard on. He flips up your skirt, tugs your underwear to one side, and shoves his cock inside you with one hard thrust. 

It hurts a little bit. You weren’t really ready, and he’s so much bigger than anything you’ve had before. Even the toy you have stashed under your bed isn’t this big. But this isn’t about you. His hands are bruising on your hips as he grunts behind you, and he hammers into you like you’re just an object here to please him. Which, you suppose, you are. You arch your back so he can fuck deeper into you, and this new angle hits something different. A moan escapes your mouth, and if he keeps going like this you might just get there. But all too soon his pace increases, and he snaps his hips against yours with a groan. You can actually feel his cock pulsing as he comes, shooting spurt after spurt into you, and as wrong as it might be you know you’ll be replaying this moment when your fingers find your pussy tonight.

He pulls out of you, and by the time you’ve turned around he’s already tucked himself away and is fastening the buttons at his throat. You straighten yourself up and retrieve your robes and the papers you have just been fucked against. And then you hover awkwardly by your chair. Is that all he wants from you today?

“You’re dismissed,” Snape says, voice rough.

You move to leave, but pause when you reach the door handle. “I’m sorry, Headmaster, but I do actually need an answer about the budget.”

He waves his hand absently at you without turning his head. “Whatever you want.”

You spend your trip down the spiral staircase attempting to smooth your hair, convinced that anyone who looks at you will know exactly what you’ve been up to. And as you stride back towards your rooms, you can only hope that your knickers are enough to stop the huge load he left inside you running down your legs.


	2. Chapter 2

You’re going to be more prepared this time, you decide as you stand in front of your full length mirror. Your knickers and bra are made of black lace, so sheer that you can easily make out your nippes and the outline of your pussy through the fabric. You’re wearing black thigh highs too, and towering heels. No more frumpy librarian.

There’s one more thing you need to do to make this more pleasant for both of you. You sink to the ground, resting your back against the foot of your bed, and watch yourself in the mirror as you spread your legs. You pull your underwear to one side, like he did, and start lazily circling your clit with your finger. Just thinking about last time is enough to get you wet. You could have spelled yourself clean of him afterwards, but instead you spent the rest of the day in a constant state of arousal as you felt his seed dripping out of you.

You grab your toy and plunge it into your hole. Even after one session with Severus Snape’s cock, this doesn’t feel like enough, but you want to stretch yourself out at least a little bit in preparation. You fuck yourself, imagining it’s him, and soon the combination of your fingers and the toy have you quivering around it as you explode. You examine your face in the mirror - your cheeks are flushed and your lips red, which adds to the wanton look you’re going for. But most importantly, your cunt is wet and ready for him.

The winter robes you wear on the journey to the Headmaster’s office are not at all seasonal. But they’re the only thing you own which fasten all the way down the front to conceal the little you’re wearing underneath. The sheer terror you felt last time you stepped past the gargoyle onto the spiral staircase has been replaced entirely by anticipation this time, and you can’t help yourself from pressing your thighs together to try to create some friction on the way up. You knock and enter at his invitation, and when you step into the room he’s sat in the same place he was last time: in front of the desk he bent you over.

“Are you busy, Headmaster?” you ask.

Snape leans back in his chair. “That depends on what you want.”

“I mean, are you expecting any visitors for the rest of the afternoon?” He shakes his head. Good.

You undo all of your buttons at once with a spell that you recently discovered (and that you really hope you can use on him one day). With a shrug of your shoulders, your robes slip down to pool at your feet, revealing you in just your underwear. Goosebumps travel over your body at the sudden change in temperature, and your nippes harden. Snape’s eyes darken and his lips part, but he quickly restores his indifferent mask. “I would have thought last time was enough to put you off _ helping _me for life.”

You take a small step towards him, and remind yourself of how quickly he hardened for you last time. It gives you courage enough to push. “Quite the opposite. I’ve been hoping that you would summon me back, but I got tired of waiting.”

“And how exactly do you think this will help me to manage the supposed pressure I am under?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “Stress relief? A distraction? A release? Or maybe just a bit of fun?”

Snape seems to consider you for a few moments, and then stands. “Come,” he says, and walks towards the door at the back of his office. You pick up your robes and follow him as quickly as you can, unsteady as you are in your heels. He leads you to a large private sitting room, decorated similarly to his office. You can see his bedroom through an open door on your left, and wonder whether that’s where you’re heading. “The portraits got an eyeful last time,” he says as he takes your robes and hangs them on the coat stand. You flush; you hadn’t even thought about that.

He doesn’t take you to his bedroom, instead settling himself into a leather wingback armchair. You climb into his lap again, and work on his cravat and top buttons like last time. With your skin exposed this time though, he actually starts touching you. His hands are tentative at your waist at first, but they soon move up to cup your tits through your bra. He pinches your pointed nipples and you moan against his throat.

Snape’s hands move down to your thighs, dragging upwards from your knees. One of his thumbs slips under the hem of your knickers, and he freezes. You stop too, and it feels like your whole body is centred on the spot his thumb is touching. He moves further in until he’s inside the very edge of your folds, deliberately, like he’s testing something. “You’re wet?” he says. It’s a question, not a statement, and he’s frowning.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“You weren’t wet last time.”

“Last time I wasn’t really expecting it, and it all happened so quickly. This time, all I’ve been thinking about for days being fucked by you again.”

His hands leave you then and he pulls back into the chair. It feels like a loss. “I don’t find lies to be a turn on,” he says.

“I’m not lying, Severus.” You cup the back of his neck and try to turn his head to face you. “You can see if you like.”

His eyes snap to yours, and he knows exactly what you’re offering. It takes him seconds to give in to the temptation. He grabs his wand - left within easy reach on the side table - and murmurs, “Legillimens.”

You push forward the memory of you the evening after your last visit, sitting in the Great Hall trying desperately to concentrate on what Minerva was saying to you, when all you could think about was the delicious feeling of his cum dripping out of you. You had excused yourself early complaining of a headache - and from the flicker in his eyes in front of you now, he remembers that. But instead you had raced back to your rooms to plunge your fingers into your folds. You had brought his essence to your mouth to taste, first - Severus’ hips jerk between your legs - before coating your fingers in his seed and using it fiddle with your clit. You find the memory of just a few minutes ago, and show him the image of you spread in front of the mirror, imagining it’s him fucking you rather than your toy. You’ve barely conjured up that last scene before he severs the connection and pulls you down to his mouth.

His lips are cool but insistent and you open your mouth for him, allowing him to thrust his tongue into you. You suckle it and he groans, and this time it’s him who undoes his belt and buttons to free his cock. You push yourself against him, trapping his erection against the sodden lace of your core, and he reaches around to tear your bra from you.

Snape pushes you back to lie down on the floor, and eases your knickers gently off your hips and down your legs. You’re naked now save for the shoes and stockings. He spreads your legs and kneels between them, and his eyes rake over your body with such an intense stare that you blush. He’s still fully dressed and buttoned up, but for the triangle of skin exposed at his chest and the dick jutting out from his trousers, and the disparity sends a flood of warmth to your centre.

He wraps his large hands around your waist and lifts your hips off the floor, pulling you towards him until his tip is nudging at your entrance. This time, he eases his cock into you slowly, and you can truly appreciate his size as he stretches you. You groan when he fills you fully, and he stops to breathe in deeply through his nose. “Touch yourself,” he grunts.

You could cry. This is about him, of course it is, but not coming last time had left you so frustrated. Your fingers are at your clit in an instant. He fucks you like that, him on his knees and you laid out before him, hips high. He uses your positions to admire your body, and his eyes flick between your face, tits, and where your fingers are frantically rubbing above the point you’re joined. 

You use your free hand to massage your breasts, licking one finger and then circling a nipple. It’s partly for you, each flick of your nipple sending a jolt straight to your clit, and partly to give him a show as his hands are occupied. He groans, and begins fucking you harder. “Do you want my cum?”

“Yes,” you moan, and you’ve never realised how sinful his voice is before.

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside me. Please, Severus, fill me up!” 

He falls back onto his heels and snatches your hips towards him so he’s seated all the way inside you. The first twitch of his cock sends you over the edge and you scream, cunt clamping down around him as he shoots his load into you.

He lowers you gently to the floor, and despite the fact that it’s cold stone - something you’ve only just noticed - you feel like you could stay there all day recovering. It only takes a few moments for him to sort his clothes out, and then he bends to pick up your knickers. “I think I’ll keep these,” he says, tucking them into his pocket, and if he was open to a second round you would be more than willing. 

“Now…” He points his wand between your parted legs and frowns. You feel something plugging your entrance, pushing just half an inch into you. “That will keep my cum inside you for ten minutes. You’d better be back in your chambers by then. I cannot stress enough just how inappropriate it would be for you to make a mess in the middle of a corridor. So, off you go.”

As much as you might selfishly wish to stay, if this is the game he wants you’ll happily play it. You race to stand on wobbly legs, and grab your robes. If only you’d taken the time to learn the spell that closes buttons, rather than just how to undo them. “You realise it probably took me about twelve minutes to get here?” you say as you misalign a button for the third time.

“You’d better run then.”

You can’t run, not in these heels, but you hurry down the corridors and up staircases as fast as you can. It doesn’t help that, sensitive as you still are, every step makes the plug jostle against you in a way that causes your breath to catch. You think you’re going to make it; one more corner and you’ll see the portrait of the bearded writer which leads to your rooms. But then Pomona Sprout’s voice shouts behind you, so loud that you can’t possibly pretend you didn’t hear.

She has questions about the library books she requested, and you try to answer quickly but she keeps talking. And then you feel it. The plug inside you vibrates (an adapted version of this spell might be very interesting to use in future, you think absently) and then disappears. You press your thighs together, and for a moment you think you’re safe. But then the Headmaster’s cum drips out of your quim and down your legs. 

Once you’ve got rid of Pomona, you all but waddle to your quarters and into your bedroom. You strip off your robes and spread your legs in front of the mirror. The milky fluid has seeped into your stockings down to your knees, and is stringing between the tops of your thighs. You try to commit what you see to memory, to show Severus later. “Look what a mess you’ve made of me,” you say, scooping some of it onto your fingers and swallowing it greedily. “I only wish you were here to clean me up.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later you return to your chambers one afternoon to find a package waiting on your coffee table. The tag on it just says ‘- SS’. You tear it open, eager to see what he could possibly have sent you. There’s a small forest of tissue paper inside, but once you get past it your breath is taken away by his gift. It’s a lingerie set in Slytherin green, edged in black lace. Both the corset and knickers are made of real silk as far as you can tell, and there are fine black stockings to attach to the suspenders at the bottom of the corset. You’ve no idea where he would have got something like this, but the thought of him picking it out just for you, in a shop or from a catalogue, makes you dearly hope this means he wants to see you today.

You lift the lingerie out of the box, and underneath is what looks to be a few pages of a diary. It’s Severus’ schedule, you realise, full of meetings with various staff, governors and Ministry officials. But every day for the rest of the summer holidays is a standing appointment from 5pm to 6pm entitled ‘Research’. Those meetings have all been underlined in red several times, and you suddenly understand what he means.

He wants you so much that he’s asking to see you every day? The thought makes you feel desirable, powerful. You check the time; it’s four o’clock. Just enough time to get ready.

* * *

The corset has boning in it, and is awkward to get on by yourself, especially as you’re still slightly damp after your shower. Once it’s properly positioned though the laces tighten themselves, pulling your body into an exaggerated hourglass. When it had been tucked into the tissue paper, you hadn’t noticed that each of the cups has a small slit in it. On your breasts, they’re perfectly placed to allow your nipples to peek through. You pull on the knickers and, similarly, they’re crotchless. This is going to be fun. The stockings attach themselves to the suspenders, and you slip into heels slightly less impractical this time, just in case.

If your ‘meeting’ with Severus is scheduled to finish at six o’clock, that might mean he wants to go straight to the Great Hall for dinner afterwards. So you’ll need to wear something that would be appropriate in front of other people. You select a navy blue sundress, with draping around the neck which should disguise the unevenness from the corset.

You didn’t need a solo session to get ready this time, you think as you head for Snape’s office. The corset is so tight around you it almost feels like he’s holding you, and the knowledge that he’s imagined you wearing this gets you so wet that the crotchless underwear is almost a bad idea already. 

He isn’t in his office when you get there, but the door to his rooms is open. He’s not in the sitting room either. Eventually you find him propped up in the middle of his four-poster bed, lounging fully dressed on top of the green sheets. “You’re supposed to be helping me,” he says, in that delicious voice. “That is the purpose of this, is it not?” You nod. “And yet, so far I have been doing all the work. This time, if you want my seed in your tight little cunt, you’ll have to make me come.”

You bite your lip, and pull the sundress over your head. He growls when he sees you in the outfit he selected for you, and you saunter towards him, swaying your hips deliberately. You climb onto the bed, legs straddling his, but keep your pelvis high to avoid giving him too much just yet. You kiss him languidly, tongue swirling against his, and begin undoing the buttons of his frock coat. When you reach the fifth or sixth, he wraps his hands around your wrists to stop you. “As Headmaster, I could be called away on urgent business at any point. Only sluts like you are found half naked in the middle of the day.”

You’re not sorry. You’d like to see him without the layers of clothes one day, but there’s something hot about fucking a fully dressed man. You press open-mouthed kisses to the skin you _ can _get at, and he runs his hands over your corset, squeezing whenever he reaches your narrowed waist. He tugs you upwards suddenly, above him, and shoves his tongue into the slit of one of your cups, sucking on your nipple. Your clit throbs, but you can’t bring yourself to touch it without his permission.

Once he’s had his fill of your breast you work down his body, kissing his chest and stomach through his clothing. You arch your back to let him see your ass, barely covered by the tiny scrap of silk and lace he gifted you. When you reach his crotch you leave his belt, instead just undoing the buttons at his fly to ease out his cock and balls. They’re stark white against the charcoal of his trousers, except for the pink head. A bead of precum forms under your scrutiny, and you lick it up without thinking about it. His whole body jerks.

The man underneath you may be one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and he’s completely at your mercy. You give his shaft one long lick from base to tip, before taking his head into your mouth. You suck on him slowly, running your tongue around him, and it’s not long before his hands are fisting in the sheets.

You release his erection and crawl back up his body, sitting gently on top of him so his cock rests between your lower lips. He begins grinding himself against you, but you push down on his hips. “I thought you wanted me to do all the work?” He scowls at you, but stops.

Deciding it’s time to put him out of his misery, you lift up onto your knees, line him up with your entrance, and pull the slit in your knickers as far apart as it will go. It takes ages for you to carefully ease yourself down onto him, but the feeling of being stretched and filled is incredible. He can get even deeper inside you, with you on top like this, and it’s hitting that spot you felt the first time. It’s instinctual, the way you start to bounce on him, and you’re chasing your own pleasure as much as this is supposed to be about him. 

His eyes roam over your body greedily as you ride him, and he runs his hands over your thighs, hips, waist, and up to squeeze your tits. You lean back, your hands on his thighs for support, and you both groan at the new angle.

“Touch yourself,” he says. “I want to feel you come on my cock.” You obey instantly, finger swirling around your clit. The extra stimulation is almost enough to send you over the edge, but you can’t come without him.

You start to ride him faster, and work your inner muscles to squeeze him. He grips your hips, pulling you down harder onto him. “I want you to come now, Severus,” you say, your voice breathy and wanton. “I want you - yes - to shoot your load deep inside me.” He starts arching his hips off the bed to thrust up into you. “I want you to fill my cunt with your cum.”

He’s so big, touching and stretching every part of your channel, that you feel it when his cock starts to spasm. You lurch forward as your orgasm hits you, pleasure exploding from where you’re joined, and he wraps his arms tightly around you. He continues to buck up into you as you ride out your climaxes together.

You lie there like that for several minutes, trying to catch your breath, and it’s oddly nice to cuddle Severus Snape. And then he moves his mouth to your ear. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”

Reluctantly pulling yourself off him, you whimper as his cock slides out of you. Before you can make a mess of him, he waves his wand to plug you up again. “Don’t worry, there’s no time limit on that one,” he says, smirking. “I’m feeling generous today.”

After throwing your dress over your head, you scurry out of the room behind Severus. He’s allowed you no time to sort out your hair, so you try in vain to smooth it down as you rush through to corridors. You haven’t had time to adjust your underwear either. The two strips of fabric over your crotch, spread wide apart to accommodate his considerable erection, are now pushing your lips together over your clit, stimulating your oversensitive nub as you walk. And the plug inside you, though nothing compared to Severus, is only adding to your arousal.

In spite of the release you experienced just a few minutes ago, you’re teetering on the edge again once you reach the Great Hall. You deliberately seat yourself between Severus and the Carrows, the cool wood of the chair soothing the heated flesh of your ass and cunt, in the hopes that no one will try to engage you in conversation. You can barely concentrate on your food, never mind talking. 

When the sticky toffee pudding arrives, you think your torment is nearly over. One more course, and you can return to the privacy of your chambers. But then you feel Severus’ eyes on you. He’s grinning wickedly.

The plug inside you begins to swell and vibrate. This can’t be happening; you can’t come here, not in front of all your colleagues. But as the external part of the plug spreads, vibrating against your lips and then your clit, you know it’s inevitable. You clutch at your seat to try to keep your hips from rocking against it, lower your head to hide your flushed face, and bite your lip to muffle the moans building inside you.

You’re so close; the sensations are overwhelming. And then you’re suddenly stretched wide as the plug expands to be almost as big as Severus. You fall over the edge, trying to fight the spasms of your body, and the moment your orgasm hits you the plug disappears. Your combined fluids gush out of you onto your seat, and you let out a shaky gasp.

“Are you quite well?” Minerva asks you.

“Yes,” you say, your voice uneven. “Just a bit of… indigestion.”

You can’t leave now, not after the mess you’ve made of the chair, so you have to wait until the other teachers have concluded their painfully long conversations. Finally, finally, it’s just you and Severus left. You stand, your legs like jelly, and turn to look at the sticky load on your seat.

“Disgusting,” he says. “Lick it up.”

You kneel to comply. This should feel degrading, but as you drag your tongue across the ridges of the wood, tasting the combination of his seed and your juices, it only makes you want him to fill you all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

On the last day of the holidays, Severus has blocked his whole day out to prepare for the start of term. You’ve only been seeing him regularly for two weeks, and you have a lot to get done too, but to have to go a whole day without him filling you up makes you ache. You decide to wear that lingerie set he bought you, and the feeling of it wrapped around you underneath your normal clothes gives you some consolation. It keeps you hot and wet all day too, of course; every movement against the unyielding fabric reminding you of his body against yours.

You’re shelving some of the new books when someone grabs you from behind, and you throw _ Meddlesome Muggles _so hard in alarm that the spine breaks as it hits the ground. “Quiet,” he whispers, and you exhale in relief. It’s just Severus.

He tugs you backwards into a shadowy area of the restricted section. “I thought you were busy all day,” you whisper.

“I am,” he says, “with you.” He reaches around you underneath your skirt, and when he realises you’re wearing your crotchless knickers he whines against your hair. “I was going to take you straight to my quarters… but this is so convenient.” He pushes you forwards so your front is pressed up against the shelves, and starts circling your clit with one hand while he undoes his belt with the other. The clunk of his buckle echoes off the stone, and you’re certain that someone is going to hear. He kicks your legs further apart, takes his cock in hand and starts nudging at your entrance.

You can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to fuck the Headmaster in the middle of the Library, in the middle of the day. You have to bite down on your hand to keep from moaning as he pushes into you, stretching you in spite of how ready you are. 

He pauses once he’s balls deep inside you. “Merlin, you’re tight. I could come right now,” he says. You whimper. His fingers on your clit and his cock throbbing against your walls are almost enough for you too. “But I don’t think you deserve my seed just yet,” he says, moving his fingers away.

You stand there, unmoving, with him buried inside you. This is a game; one he’s started playing recently. He wants you to beg, or to give in and start touching yourself. And you want to. You’d do almost anything to get him to start pounding into you. But you also know how much it drives him wild when you resist, when you pretend his body in yours isn’t the thing you care most about in your life. In a vain attempt to distract yourself, you look around your library, and gasp. The shadowy corner he has chosen isn’t as concealed as you thought. At the right angle, there is a direct line of sight from the corridor outside, through the open doors and shelves, to the pair of you fucking.

It’s too much for you. “Please,” you beg, “please fuck me, Headmaster.”

“You’ll have to ask more nicely than… wait…” he says. You turn to look back at him and he’s frowning in concentration. It’s the look he gets when he’s tapping into the castle’s magic. And then he begins thrusting furiously. It’s overwhelming to suddenly be given what you want, and the harder he fucks you the more your legs turn to jelly. Aware of your wobbling he wraps his arms around you to keep you upright, shoving his hands under your jumper to hold onto your tits. The brush of his palms against your pointed nipples sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

“Minerva is about three minutes away from the Library,” he grunts into your ear. “And I’m only going to fill you up if you milk it from me. So touch yourself, make yourself come. Otherwise we’ll be caught rutting in the Library by the Head of Gryffindor.”

You shove your hand under your skirt to rub your clit, and you can’t fight the groan when you brush the girth of him stretching your slit open. “Two and a half minutes,” he says. His voice is like velvet, combining with the danger and his cock and his hands and your fingers to make heat and tension coil in your core. “Two minutes.” You’re so close. You start to pant as you fight the noises you would naturally make. “That’s it - come for me. Come around my cock and I’ll give you my cum.” The thought of him flooding you is all it takes. You fall over the edge, waves of pleasure racing through you, and sink your teeth into the wood of the shelf to turn what would be a scream into a much quieter moan. Severus has nothing to bite down on, and groans against your back as he spurts inside you.

When he pulls out it’s almost too soon, and you feel instantly empty. But there’s no time. You make to move, to straighten yourself up, but Severus holds your hips in place, legs still apart. “Push it out,” he says.

“What? I thought…”

“Shhh. One minute left, and you’re not leaving until you’ve pushed it out.”

There’s no time to argue, so you do as he says, flexing and squeezing your inner muscles. But he came so deeply inside you. “Thirty seconds.” Your heart’s racing, and you bounce your hips to try to push it out. “Fifteen.” You can hear familiar footsteps in the corridor outside the Library. And then you feel his cum dripping down your channel and out, to land on the flagstones of the Restricted Section.

A second later and Severus has apparated you to his bedroom. He finally lets you go, and you collapse onto the carpet. “Bastard!” you say through your grin. 

He picks you up and deposits you on his bed, vanishing your clothes in the process and leaving you in that lingerie set. “In actual fact,” he says, swirling his wand around in a complex pattern, “I _ do _have a lot I need to get done today. But I thought you might wish to wait here, until I’m next able to get away for a break.” Something tugs on your wrists and ankles, and you realise you’re bound, in a starfish, on his bed. He casts the spell he’s been using to plug you up. It fills you almost as much as he does, and this time it starts vibrating immediately. “That won’t allow you to climax, by the way, but it’ll keep you nice and ready for me.”

And then he’s gone. You struggle against the restraints, the tightness only enhancing the sensations coming from his spell inside you. You’re not nearly as accomplished as he is with wandless magic, but you know you could probably get out of the restraints if you wanted to. Except, you don’t want to. So instead you lie there, spread eagle, as the vibrations in your cunt send you slowly mad.

You don’t know how long he’s gone for - there are no clocks that you can see. But when he returns, your whole body is trembling. Instead of a spoken greeting, he kneels between your legs and licks your clit. It’s the first time he’s gone down on you, but you’re so wound up you can’t really take that in. He swirls his tongue around your bud, then sucks on it, every movement of his hot, wet tongue making you more desperate for release. And then something snaps. He’s broken whatever enchantment was stopping you from coming. He flicks his tongue forwards one last time, and you explode, riding his face as much as your restraints will allow.

Your knickers must be a mess, your juices mixing with his, but once you’ve come down from your high he drags his tongue up the whole slit, making your body jolt with an aftershock when he reaches your clit. Meeting your eyes, he swallows, and then licks his lips.

“You were such a bad girl,” he says, “wasting my cum on the floor of your little library. No more of that.” He unbuckles his trousers and draws out his cock. “I’m going to fill you over and over, and you’re going to keep it all this time.”

You’re so wet that he slides straight into you. Sometimes, you think you must enjoy this so much more than he does; he always seems to be able to make you lose control with such ease. But this time, there are no long, teasing strokes, no clever words. It’s clear he’s close already as he lets loose, pistoning his hips and hammering into you. He’s fucking you so hard that he’s forcing your body up the bed, the ropes biting into your wrists and ankles.

From this angle, you’re free to watch his face. His eyes trail over your body, and he’s particularly drawn to watching his cock disappear inside you. And then his eyes scrunch up, his jaw goes slack, and he grunts, slamming into you with one final, hard thrust as he empties himself into your cunt. It’s a powerful feeling to know that your body is enough to overwhelm him so quickly.

Severus lengthens the ropes restraining your ankles and lifts your hips off the bed, his cock still plugging you. He piles pillows under your ass, so when he slips out of you the elevation of your lower body keeps his seed deep inside you.

He leaves you there without a word, and you feel utterly empty without him. In just a few short weeks, you’ve become so accustomed to his body in yours that you don’t know how you’ll ever cope without it.

Severus returns to you periodically, keeping your hips high in one way or other as he shoots his load into you. Only once he’s filled you four times does he release your bonds and allow you to move, your muscles stiff as you shift yourself into a kneeling position. It’s only a matter of seconds before his cum drips out of you, creating a puddle on the bed, and he groans when he sees the evidence of his conquest of your body. 

You’re not sure if you’re capable of another orgasm, never mind him, but he pushes you back down onto the mattress anyway. His fingers find your cunt and his tongue finds your nipple, as he readies you for yet another round.

* * *

When you get back to the Library, aching and sore in the best possible way, you head straight for the Restricted Section to examine the floor. The mess you made is dry now, but you can still just make it out. You draw your wand to scourgify it, but pause just before the spell leaves your lips. It blends in on such a weathered old floor, and no one would ever know what it was.

When you stand, you notice teeth marks pressed into the shelf. They’re much more obvious than the stain on the floor. This section only contains memoirs of obscure authors of dangerous books though; no one reads them. In the end, you decide to leave the evidence of your coupling untouched - they can serve as mementos in case you ever want to relive the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some of that fluff I promised in the tags. Still plenty of angst and smut though!

Once the students arrive, there really is less time to see each other. There’s some kind of crisis that Severus has to attend to every night, and you’re resigned to the fact that it may have to turn into a weekend thing. As the term goes on though, even on the weekends he can often only squeeze in a quickie or two. You’ll take any time you can get with him, but you’re already looking forward to the Christmas holidays.

You return to your rooms after closing the Library one Thursday in October though, and he’s waiting for you. He’s on you as soon as you walk through the door, kissing your mouth and face and neck. “Please,” he says, “please, I just need to be inside you.”

“Of- of course you can,” you say, confused about what has caused this change. He’s never begged you before, always taken what you offered or demanded what he wanted.

He starts to unbutton his frock coat, something else he’s never done before, and you focus on trying to meet the urgency of his kisses. You follow his lead and undress yourself, mouth never leaving his. Soon you’re standing at the doorway to your chambers, both stripped down to your underwear. You match: both in plain black, and you try not to stare at the endless scars littering his body, or the way his bones protrude from his underfed frame.

He wraps his arms around you and buries his face against your neck, and it feels so wonderful to have his skin pressed against yours for the very first time. It feels even more wonderful to know that it’s you he’s come to for comfort. Suddenly, you know you’d do anything to take away whatever is causing him this pain. But he’s been very clear about what he needs from you for now. His erection is hard and hot against your belly, so you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom.

As soon as you lie down on the bed, he settles into the cradle of your thighs. You arch against him, grinding your core against the bulge in his boxers, as he runs his mouth over every part of you he can reach. It’s you who vanishes the underwear between you, and you take a moment to savour the feeling of every inch of his body on top of you: the rasp of the wiry hair on his chest, legs, and around his hardened member; the warmth of his heated flesh; the feeling of his pebbled nipples.

His cock is heavy and needy when you grasp it to line him up with your entrance. As he eases inside you he twines his fingers with yours above your head, and once he’s stretched you fully he stills, breath hot against your throat. You wrap your legs tightly around him and murmur soothing nothings into his ear, wanting more than anything to make him feel better.

Eventually, he starts to rock into you. This isn’t the frantic pounding or deliberate teasing of your previous sessions. His strokes are long, and tender, and desperate, and he clutches your body to him as he fucks you. At this angle, his pelvis is grinding into your clit, and his cock is sliding against a spot inside you that’s making you chant his name. 

“You’re so tight,” he moans, his mouth against your breast. “So hot, so wet.” He suckles your nipple. “So beautiful.” You run your hands over his back, smooth skin marred by countless puckered scars, and you know that the physical marks represent only a fraction of all that Severus has suffered. How can a man who’s been through so much pain be so gentle and giving with you? He should be cold, hard, but instead he’s worshipping your body. His hands are all over you, touching you like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

He tangles his fingers in your hair and his hips start moving faster. If his body inside and on top of you wasn’t enough, the noises he’s making in your ear alone could almost get you there. Every gasp, every groan, seems amplified by the intensity of his touch and the urgent way he’s driving into you.

His thrusts become less even, more jerky. “I need… I need you-” He maneuvers his hand between you to press two fingers against your clit. “Please…” 

That extra bit of pressure seems to be all you need. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and your whole body clenches around him as you come: limbs, cunt, your teeth around his shoulder. As soon as he feels your climax _ his _whole body starts to shake, and he pushes almost painfully deeply inside you to find his release.

He collapses next to you, clinging to your body as if you’re the only thing tethering him to this world. You card your fingers rhythmically through his hair as your breathing starts to slow.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you say.

Severus is silent for so long that you wonder whether he’s heard you. “They’re torturing children,” he says eventually. “The Carrows. I don’t know what to do. I’m the Headmaster, I could stop them. But if I do… they’ll report back to _ him _.”

Your heart aches for him, and you’re suddenly so grateful that Dumbledore gave you this mission. Of course, it’s more than a mission now. Severus has quickly become the most important person in your life, and you’d feel the same way even if the war ended tomorrow. 

“I’m sure we can find a way around it,” you say. “You know, I still haven’t finished processing all those new books. Any students sent for detention could come and help me.”

“And what about when you run out of new books?”

“There’s always shelving. And I could ask around the other staff, get them to find jobs that need doing as a punishment. I’d frame it as if it was coming from me, not you, obviously, as a way for the staff to fight back against the new regime. And the Carrows can hardly blame you if you send students to do useful tasks, especially the... the younger ones.”

Severus leans up onto his elbow and stares at you, and his eyes are so full of emotion that you almost want to look away. He kisses you, fiercely. It might just be wishful thinking, but this feels like more than lust and friendship. Tears start to fall onto your face, and you’re not sure whether they’re yours or his. 

“I love you,” he says against your mouth, and then instantly pulls away, lying back onto the pillow. “Fuck, I’m sorry, forget I said that. I know you’re only here at Dumbledore’s behest.” He covers his head with his arms. “Don’t concern yourself with finding a way to let me down gently. I understand what this is.”

For a moment, you’re frozen. You thought you were just a way for him to pass the time, an outlet for his stress and pressure. He must have misspoken: there’s no way that such a brilliant, wonderful man could have fallen for you. But then he shifts his arms, and through a gap between them you can see part of his face. It’s drawn in utter despair. Perhaps he really _does _love you. Clearly, though, he thinks this is one sided. You search for a way to convey the depths of your feelings for him, desperate to take away his pained expression.

“I don’t think you do understand,” you say, the words coming out of your mouth before you’ve even had time to think about what you’re saying. You pull his arms away from his face gently. “Of course, I came to you in the first place because Dumbledore told me to. But that’s not the reason I’m still here.” You turn his head so he’s facing you, and he looks so vulnerable, his eyes refusing to meet yours. “I love you too, Severus.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” he says, voice cracking.

You dip your head so his eyes are forced to lock with yours. “Look.”

This time, his murmured, “Legilimens” feels gentle as he enters your mind. You’re not sure what memories to reach for - until he said it, you hadn’t properly realised that what you feel for Severus is love - so you concentrate on emotions. The sense of longing you feel when you’re apart brings forward all those times you’ve sat at the Head Table, trying to stop yourself from staring wistfully at him. Your admiration for him leads to memories of the many occasions you’ve seen him direct the Carrows away from errant students, or surreptitiously aid Dumbledore’s Army. Your desire for him incites flashes of countless screaming orgasms, of nights spent alone with your body feeling utterly empty without him and his cock to fill you. You finish by showing him the events of this evening from your perspective. How wonderful it was to be able to see and touch him for the first time, how right it felt to have him in your arms, how you would have given anything to take away his pain, how you never want to be without him ever again.

You don’t know how long he was inside your mind, but when he pulls out he’s inside your body, his half-hard length swelling rapidly within your channel. He rolls you both over so you’re lying on top of him, and his eyes are full of wonder as he watches you start to ride him. His hands are everywhere, gripping your thighs, your ass, your waist, pinching your nipples, teasing your clit. But he seems to decide quickly that it’s not enough contact, and pulls you down so your breasts press against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. He kisses you, his tongue stroking hungrily against yours, and plants his feet on the mattress so he can thrust up into you.

“You’re amazing,” he says between kisses. “So beautiful, so wonderful. Anything- anything for you.”

And then he pauses, grabs his wand, and casts a spell you don’t recognise. You’re not sure what he’s done when he starts thrusting into you again. But then he kisses you. And whatever spell he’s cast means that the movements of his tongue in your mouth are replicated against your clit. It’s so unexpected, and overwhelming - the feeling of his cock fucking you and his tongue licking you at the same time - that you come instantly, your walls throbbing around him.

He kisses you more gently, then, but he doesn’t stop, his invisible tongue still laving your oversensitive clit. You’re so boneless that all you can do is hold on as his hips slam up into you and his tongue swirls with greater intensity in your mouth and around your clit. You’re almost there again, just seconds after you’ve last come, and then his body starts to tremble, and he sucks, hard, on your tongue. And clit. You both groan as you come together, your channel milking his seed from him.

“I love you,” he says, and kisses you languorously. But the spell is still going.

It’s half tickling you, half pleasurable. “Severus!” you say, laughing. “I can still feel your tongue!”

He smirks. “I know.” And then he flips you over, running his tongue over your body in deliberately intricate patterns. Your hips arch up off the bed, desperate for contact now you’re empty of him, and he slips three fingers into you easily.

“Severus, I… I don’t know if I can,” you say. You’ve come twice in as many minutes.

“I believe in you,” he says. And then his head is between your thighs, and he licks your clit for real. You gasp. Somehow, it’s like being eaten out by two Severuses at the same time. You fist your fingers in his hair to pull him hard against your pussy, and wrap your legs around the back of his neck for good measure.

“Don’t stop,” you say, and he chuckles against you. You want this to last, to be able to enjoy it for as long as possible. But there are two tongues on your clit, lapping and circling and sucking, and his long fingers are thrusting faster and faster into you, and it’s too much. You scream as you explode, grinding against his face as his tongue draws your orgasm out and keeps you twitching beneath him.

When you drop your legs to the mattress, he sucks in a deep breath. “I love you,” he pants against your thigh, and at your pleading look he cancels the spell.

You’re exhausted, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “I love you too, you wicked, clever man.”


	6. Chapter 6

As you race across the Hogwarts grounds, you wish more than anything that Severus had taught you to fly. You’re running so fast, cold air burning your lungs, that it almost feels like flying anyway; your feet are barely touching the ground.

The Whomping Willow is in sight, and the sheer terror coursing through you gives you the power to immobilise it with just a flick of your wand. You slip inside, still not stopping, and decide you don’t care whether your thundering footsteps draw the attention of anyone unsavoury. You just need to get to him.

You freeze in the doorway to the Shrieking Shack so abruptly that you might as well have run into an invisible wall. It’s the sight of Severus that stops you. He’s pale and lifeless on the ground, and lying in a pool of red. You give yourself exactly three seconds to get a grip, and two deep breaths. And then you crouch at his side, trying to ignore the fact that the liquid seeping into your robes is _ his blood_.

This was always to be the last part of Dumbledore’s plan, and you pray to gods you don’t even believe in that the old man has one last ace to play from beyond the grave. Your hands are a blur as you work over Severus, splashing phoenix tears on the gash across his neck, pouring antivenins and blood replenishers and broad-spectrum healing potions into his mouth, and massaging his throat to make him swallow them. Your healing skills are rudimentary at best, but you try anyway, murmuring words over him in a sing song voice. You can’t be sure, but at least some of his blood might have returned to his body, and his wound might look slightly less angry. Maybe. A bit.

When he still lies limp in your arms, you shoot a jolt of magic straight to his heart. And then you start to cry. You clutch at his robes, and bury your face against his chest, and wish that you’d died with him.

But then you hear it. A heartbeat. The same heartbeat you’ve fallen asleep listening to on countless nights over the past year. You pull back to look at his face, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. His eyes open and fix on yours. “You… saved me?” he says, his voice a croaky mess.

And now you’re really crying. These are not delicate little tears, these are full on ugly sobs. Snot and tears are mingling together on your scrunched up face. You’re crying so hard that if you’re not careful you’re either going to throw up or hyperventilate. “I… thought… you’d… died,” you manage in between gasps.

He reaches towards you weakly, and frowns as he circles your wrist with his fingers. “You’re covered in blood.”

That sets off another round of uncontrollable sobs in you. “It’s... yours!” you say eventually. 

He pulls you towards him then, back down against his chest, but this time his arms are around you. And even though he’s the one who just nearly died, and he’s the one sitting in at least half of his own blood volume, it’s him who comforts you. “Hey, shh, I’m not going anywhere. Not when I have you to live for.”

“We’re not safe here,” you say against his frock coat. Fortunately, Hogwarts still considers him the Headmaster, and in spite of his weakened state he manages to apparate you both to your quarters. You help him onto the bed and cast protective enchantments around the room. And then you don’t take your eyes off him, barely even blinking, listening intently to every rasping breath to make sure he’s still alive until the battle ends and you can summon a Healer.

* * *

Three weeks after the battle Severus is still on bedrest, though you have to watch him constantly to make sure he doesn’t get up. His mind is certainly fully recovered, and he snaps at anyone but you who enters his bedroom, especially Healers who come to tell him he still needs rest. You decide he’s strong enough to hear your news when he wandlessly and wordlessly slams the door behind one Healer so forcefully that it actually hits her on her way out.

“Severus,” you say, and he looks up from his crossword, “do you remember what you said to me on the floor of the Shrieking Shack? That you have me to live for?”

He puts the newspaper down. “Ah, yes. I’m sorry if that was a bit much. I don’t want you to feel pressured if… I’m not going to up and kill myself if you ever leave me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, it’s not that,” you say. “It’s just… there’s not only me to live for anymore.” He frowns at you. “I’m pregnant.”

His frown deepens, and it looks like he’s trying to solve a particularly confusing riddle. “I’m… going to be a father?” You nod. “How- how far along-?”

You take his hand. “I’m three months, actually. I found out just before the battle, but then I couldn’t find a chance to tell you.”

He moves towards the edge of the bed and waves you away when you try to stop him. He climbs off and onto the floor, and at first you think he’s fallen, but then he waves his wand and something small comes zooming through the air into his hand. It’s a black box, and you very suddenly realise he’s not just on the floor, he’s down on one knee.

He opens the box to reveal an exquisite gold ring. It’s set with a startlingly large sapphire flanked by smaller diamonds. “Marry me?” he murmurs.

“You don’t have to marry me just because I’m pregnant, Severus. It’s 1998.”

He arches an eyebrow and gestures to the box. “Clearly, I already had the ring.” But then his tone softens. “I bought it months ago, and every time I felt... overwhelmed, I would look at it as a reminder of my motivation for getting through the war. I told myself that, if I survived, I would ask you to build a life with me. Maybe, start a family.”

You’re filled with so much love for this man. He’s in his pyjamas and his hair’s a mess and he’s kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, but you can’t imagine a more perfect proposal. You join him on the floor and press your mouth against his. “Is… is that a yes?” he asks, in such an uncertain voice that you can’t help throwing your arms around him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His hand trembles as he pushes the ring onto your finger. 

* * *

Your wedding is a small and simple affair, given how preoccupied everyone is with rebuilding the castle and how many people are in mourning. In attendance are the Malfoys, a few select members of Hogwarts staff, and your immediate family. The ceremony is held by the lake at sunset, followed by drinks and nibbles in the Headmaster’s Office. On the way to the stone gargoyle though, you pull Severus into an abandoned classroom and lock the door.

“We need to be quick,” you say as you hop up onto the teacher’s desk, “but I wanted to show you one of your wedding presents.” You slowly draw your skirts up to your waist and spread your legs.

Underneath your fairly demure wedding dress, you’re wearing a replica of that first lingerie set he bought you, but in white. He’s in front of you in two long strides, and teases apart the slit in your knickers. “Are you telling me, Mrs Snape, that you’ve been standing there all evening, through the ceremony, dressed in white, and the whole time your cunt has been accessible and…” he slips two fingers inside you and groans when he discovers how wet you are, “ready to be fucked?”

“I wanted to be ready for my husband,” you say, spreading your lips and framing your hole with your fingers. “This belongs to you, now. Forever.”

He doesn’t bother with undressing either of you, just opens his fly, pulls out his cock, and enters you in one stroke. “They’ve all been looking at you,” he says as he starts thrusting, “in your pure white dress. Thinking Snape’s married himself a prim and proper little librarian who’s as boring as he is. If only they knew what a slut you are for my cum.”

You chose a dress with a cowl neckline deliberately, and he pulls the draped fabric to one side to reveal the white silk of your corset. Your hardened nipple is already poking through the hole in the cup, and he bends to suckle on it, every flick of his tongue sending a jolt of excitement to your core.

Severus pushes you down so you’re lying back on the desk, and wraps his arm under your hips to lift them higher. He can get even deeper inside you at this angle. He brings his thumb down to circle your clit, and your nails scrape against the wood as he drives your pleasure ever higher. 

You’re close; that coiling sensation is building in you, but you know you won’t get there until you feel him flooding you. “They wouldn’t, ah, think you were boring if they knew, oh, how big your cock is,” you say. “Yes, harder. What you can do with it. That you, oh, filled me up so many times you put a baby in me.”

He growls at your last line, and you file that reaction away for later. “Well then, wife. I’m going to shoot my fertile load deep inside you, and you’re going to have to talk to our guests with it running down your legs.” You feel his cock pulse. “Take it!” he grunts, and you come with him, bucking up against him as you feel that rush of warmth inside you.

* * *

If you could think straight, you’d be glad that you enlisted the house elves to help decorate Severus’ office when you see it: they have draped gauzy white fabric tactically around the room, hiding all of the slimiest jars. But all you can concentrate on when you enter your reception is the feeling of your thighs rubbing together, slick with your husband’s cum. You wonder if this is the real reason wedding dresses are white: to try to hide stains from eager consummations.

When the last guest leaves, encouraged by a pointed look from Severus, your new husband sweeps you into his arms. You try to protest; he’s still supposed to be recovering, and he’s technically lifting two of you. But he silences you with a, “Hush. Nothing will stop me carrying my new bride over the threshold.” He sets you down once you’re in his sitting room, and if he had all of his strength you think he’d probably have taken you straight to bed.

He kneels before you and rests his cheek and hand - his wedding ring thick and unmistakable on his third finger - against your belly. Your robes are cut to show off your tiny bump, though it’s so small that probably only Severus really noticed. He tugs your left hand closer so he can see your bands side by side. “My wife and child… I never thought I’d be so lucky.”

He slips a hand under your skirts and starts running it idly up and down the insides of your legs. You hum, and hug his head closer to your stomach. When he reaches the mess he’s made of you, he tuts. “You’re a disgrace, Mrs Snape.”

He leads you to the bathroom and strips you, kissing every new bit of skin he reveals reverently. His hands make quick work of the buttons down the back of your dress, but he takes his time unlacing your corset, fingers following his mouth as if he can’t get enough of touching you. Once you’re finally naked, body practically vibrating with need, he turns on the shower and pushes you under the spray. You miss the feel of him pressed against you, but he sheds his own clothes and joins you a few seconds later. He grabs a cloth and cleans your body with as much care as he used to undress you, though he spends far longer than is strictly necessary washing your pussy and tits. His touches seem largely innocent and chaste, but put together with his throbbing cock bumping against your ass they’re building a fire inside you, and you’re sure it can’t be healthy to be this turned on for such a long time. 

Once he’s scrubbed your whole body, he leads you from the shower and dries you with a fluffy towel. Again, he pays extra attention to your quim, and you can’t stop yourself from trying to grind your clit against the fabric as it presses into your folds. But he pulls it away whenever you try. It’s torture, what he’s doing to you, and you want it to end. And you have an idea for how you might manage it.

You step away from him so he can see your whole body from the side, and run a hand over your swollen belly. “Do you see what you’ve done to me, husband? You filled me up with your seed, and it’s taken hold in me. A part of you is inside me, and my body is growing, changing, because of you.”

You’ve barely finished the last word when he slams your hips into the counter, bends you forwards over the sink, and shoves his thick cock into you roughly from behind. You’re reminded of your first time together, but this time you’re so ready for him that there’s only pleasure as he stretches you completely. 

You try to thrust back against him, but he’s slamming into you so hard and fast that you can’t keep up. Instead you shift your hips just slightly so your clit is resting on the marble counter. With every stroke he presses your nub against the cool stone, and it’s the extra stimulation you need to make sure you’re with him.

“You want more of my cum, don’t you?” he says, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips. You can only moan in response. “That’s what you want. What you always want. My fertile seed spurting in your cunt and up into your womb.” He reaches around you, one hand roughly massaging your breast and the other pressed against your rounded belly. “Well your body is mine now.”

You started down this path because you thought it would turn him on, but his possessiveness is making you even wetter. You want him to fill you again, need his cum inside you. So you start squeezing your cunt around him, tightening and releasing your inner muscles. He groans, and starts moving even faster.

His hand moves from your belly to your hip for better purchase, and his fingers dig into your breast and pelvis as he gets closer. You’re nearly there too, every muscle in your body straining as you chase your climax. Severus gives one hard, deep thrust into you. “Mine!” he shouts, and your clit slides against the counter, now slick with your juices. He thrusts again. “My wife!” And a third time. “_ MINE!” _

You scream as you come undone. He pulls you up so your back is flush to his chest as he bucks into you, cock pulsing. Your hands find your clit to give you something to grind against, and you come again, cunt clenching around his hard rod as your legs give way, kept upright only by his strong arms.

It's not been long at all since the classroom, so you can't believe how much cum drips from you when he pulls out. After a few seconds leaning against the sink to recover, you turn to face him. His cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the exertion; he seems to be embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I wanted that to be… I wanted to make love to you, not-”

“Don’t,” you say, breathless. “Don’t apologise for one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.”

Heat flashes in his eyes. “And which other orgasms would make that list?”

You stretch onto your toes to kiss him, tongue pressing against his. “There was that time in the Library,” you say, walking towards the bedroom, “that was pretty good.” You jump onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress, and look up to see Severus leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, a wide smile on his face as he watches you.

“I love you so much, Mrs Snape,” he says.

You smile, and then your smile turns devious. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much?” you say.

He joins you on the bed, body pressing deliciously against yours. “With pleasure.”


End file.
